


Bad Hair Day

by darningdreams



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darningdreams/pseuds/darningdreams
Summary: School starts tomorrow, and young Sebastian has enlisted Sam's help in putting together his new look for sophomore year. He should have known better.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Bad Hair Day

“...Sam.”

There was a quiet snigger behind Sebastian, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the mirror. It was _weird_ , seeing his summer-freckled face surrounded by black hair instead of the rusty orange he’d gotten from his mother and been fine with until last year. But there was a problem.

Sam’s blonde head peered out from behind him, blue eyes wide and lips practically vibrating with the effort of not busting out into laughter. Sebastian ran his hands up through his damp hair, pulling at one of the patchy bits he could see in the front, and moaned.

“Come on, I’ve never done this before. How much help did you think I would be?”

“More help than a one-armed octopus,” Sebastian spat, glaring at the mirror and shaking his head. He was going to be the laughingstock of the sophomore class, tomorrow. “What’s the back look like?”

Sam flushed bright red. “Well...”

“ _Shit_. Never mind.” He was going to be the laughingstock of the entire high school.

Footsteps on the stairs made Sebastian’s stomach twist. Sam glanced at the bathroom door, nervously.

“You know who we need,” Sam muttered.

Sebastian launched himself out of the bathroom and threw on a hoodie, tucking his hair in and cinching the hood closed just before the door to his room opened.

“Hey boys, I just put in a...”

His mother paused, tucking bits of her own red hair back behind one ear.

“Pizza?” Sam offered, leaning a little too nonchalantly against the bathroom door. Sebastian gave him a look, and Sam tucked his stained hands into his pockets and grinned.

“Mom, can, uh...” Sebastian swallowed hard as she looked between the two of them. He was already an inch taller than her, but that _look_ made him feel about four feet tall again, and like he’d run off with one of Maru’s tools, to boot. “Can Abby come over?”

“It’s a school night, Sebby.”

“I know, but—”

“That’s the problem,” Sam mumbled. Sebastian shot him a glare.

“No. And Sam should go after dinner, so you two aren’t up all night.” She turned and started back up the stairs.

“Can I go stay with Sam, then? I hate getting up to walk to the bus.”

“No. Fifteen minutes, guys.”

Sebastian groaned and flopped backwards onto his bed.

“It won’t be that bad,” Sam said, hopping up next to him. “No one will—“

“You don’t understand, Sam. This is _high school_. It will be worse than bad.”

“Could shave it—“

A pillow to the face was the only hint Sam could take, some days.

They left the basement only long enough to grab dinner. Sebastian ate in silence, letting Sam chatter on about his new guitar and picking off a rogue piece of pineapple that had found its way onto his side of the pizza. He resisted the urge to throw it at Maru when she cracked the door open without knocking.

“Sebastian, what’d you do with my—“

“Don’t have it.”

“—paintbrush set? And what’s wrong with your—“

“Nothing.”

“—hair?”

Maru glared at him. She’d gotten their mother’s deep brown eyes and her height, but everything else about his half-sister was a perfect mix of genetics that left no question as to who her father was. She curled a length of ruddy chestnut hair around one brown finger.

“...Sam, where’s my—“

“We only used one.”

Sebastian threw the pineapple at Sam, instead. “Go away, Maru,” he snapped, setting his half-eaten slice back down on the plate next to him.

She rolled her eyes and turned to go but paused, frowning as she sniffed the air. “Why does it smell like bleach? There’s hardly any ventilation down here. You shouldn’t be using any chemicals, it’s bad for—“

“Go _away_ ,” Sebastian repeated, hiding his hands in his sweatshirt sleeves and rubbing his face. Part of his hood fell off.

A moment later Maru giggled and took off up the stairs, yelling. “Mom! Sebastian dyed his hair, and—“

Sam looked at him from the other end of the bed and raised an eyebrow. “You going to eat that?”

Half an hour later, Abigail and his mother had chased Sam out of the bathroom and were standing behind Sebastian. He wasn’t sure which of them was more terrifying; his mother’s mortified face and smoldering look of anger or Abby’s demonic smirk that kept threatening to break out into howls of laughter.

“You can fix it, right?” He asked, trying not to meet any of the eyes in the mirror.

“Sebby, I’ve been doing this for almost three years now. Don’t worry.” Abby reached her hands up and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him down into the chair they’d brought in so she could see the top of his head. She reached up to pull her own purple hair into a pony tail and out of the way. “I don’t think we need to bleach it again, I just need to touch up Sam’s... uh...”

“Hey, I _tried_ ,” Sam yelled from the bedroom. Abby fought down another round of giggles as she pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. Sebastian glowered at his reflection as she started plastering more dye through his hair. His mother sighed and shook her head.

“You three,” she muttered, “are even more trouble _apart_ than you are together. We’ll talk about this after school, tomorrow, Sebastian.”

Sebastian caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror as she turned around to leave—one corner of her mouth twitched down, but her eyes betrayed amusement.

“You’d better talk about why he didn’t just call me in the first place,” Abby suggested. Sebastian squirmed as both his mother and Sam started laughing from the bedroom. “And for the love of Yoba, don’t go asking Sam for help with your roots when they grow out.”

Whatever she meant by that, Sebastian swore he wouldn’t ask Sam for help with his hair again. He’d never been so glad he was several years older than Sam and Abby—at least they wouldn’t be able to spread this around at the high school.

“I heard Emily was coming in to TA my art class this year. Just wait until _she_ hears about this,” Abby cackled.

“Don’t you _dare_ —“

“Hold _still_ , would you? I wouldn’t want to _miss_ a spot on accident...”


End file.
